


The tale of the Dragon and the Bookworm

by mordanbooqs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood Magic, Creature Fic, Curse Breaking, Curses, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24164440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mordanbooqs/pseuds/mordanbooqs
Summary: Cursed inside the body of a monster after betraying the Dark Lord, Draco Malfoy has been living for 150 years inside his manor with an elf as his sole company - at least until Hermione Granger barged in his home, turning his world upside down. Would she be able to save him?[a 'Beauty and the Beast' inspired short-fic]
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rather crazy idea I had the other day after rewatching 'Beauty and the Beast' (Emma Watson's version) for the millionth time. I couldn't get the idea out of my head so I started writing... and this is the result of my crazyness. This is the first time ever I write Dramione so please have mercy on me D:  
> I'm spanish so I originally wrote this in that language, but I decided to translate it into english just for the sake of practicing my writing skills - which means that although I've tried not to make them, you will probably find some mistakes in my writing (do not fear to point them out so I can correct them!). Also, if anyone's willing to proof-read future chapters I'd really appreciate it!!  
> Hope you enjoy reading this piece, and don't forget to let me know what you think of it!

**The tale of the Dragon and the Bookworm**

* * *

**P R O L O G U E**

* * *

**_May 1869. Malfoy’s Winter Manor, Inverchoran Wood_ **

Draco Malfoy stepped through the fireplace with shaky legs. He was totally and utterly sloshed; they had been drinking for days, celebrating the end of Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard that had frightened the magical world for more than thirty years. It had been a difficult battle, more so for some than for others.

Many had perished fighting, and some, such as himself, had ended up alone. It wasn’t only because of the end of the war that he owed this intoxicated state; drinking also helped him forget the emptiness he would find every night when he was back home – and the sad part? He had chosen loneliness.

But he could sleep with a clear conscience at night, and at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered to him. Besides, he wasn’t _alone_ alone. Some of the family’s elves had stayed behind with him.

He tripped with the elegant carpet decorating the drawing room, falling flat on his face, and puking a bit on the expensive rug when he tried to stand up. Yup, he was way too wasted. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, managing to stand up and get to the sofa, dropping his drunken arse there with a grunt. He thought about calling one of his elves to help him get to his quarters, but there was way too much alcohol in his blood, and he was fast asleep before he could call them.

Not too long after falling asleep, he woke up a bit dizzy at the feel of something pointy poking his throat. He opened his eyes to see three masked faces in front of him, one of them with a wand against his throat. He blinked, trying to clear up his drunken mind.

 _Death eaters_.

“Well, well, well…” the person with the wand spoke with a creepy voice that he knew better than he’d like to “Seems like the little prince finally woke up. Celebrating your betrayal, Malfoy?”

Draco narrowed his eyes.

“ _Parkinson”_

The woman laughed, and Draco felt goose bumps all over his body at that eery laugh. She took the mask off, revealing the face of a girl that Draco had once thought was beautiful but now was distorted with a repulsive grimace. He didn’t know that the girl had taken the dark mark, so he was stunned – she made it clear back when they were together that she didn’t like him being a Death Eater.

“I guess you can imagine why we are here” said the woman “You have to be punished for your betrayal to the dark lord.”

“So, you’ve come here to what? Kill me?

“Kill you?” that fucking creepy laugh again “No, no, _dragon_ ” she made fun of his name, something he used to like but now it just made him gag “Your betrayal doesn’t deserve something as worthy as death… You deserve something worse.”

“Worse than death?”

_What the bleeding hell could possibly be worse than death?_

Marigold Parkinson smiled, and Draco fought to remove the alcohol-thick-fog clouding his brain and blurring his thoughts. He could see it was still night-time, so he could not have been asleep that long. Where was his wand? How did they enter his manor?

“You see, Malfoy, I’m not Parkinson – I’m Nott now” she showed him her wedding ring “As you know, the Nott family is well known for their abilities in the use of forbidden magic. Now that I am part of that family, I have access to that magic” she pressed the end of her wand further against his throat “and I intend to use it on you.”

Draco gasped looking at the ring. Marigold Parkinson, now Nott. The Nott family, although no one knew for sure if they were truly purebloods, was highly regarded between the pureblood society in the United Kingdom; their –unethical– use of magic was the main reason. The respect they had earned came from fear, and that was probably the reason why Voldemort had accepted them among his ranks.

What terrified Draco now, though, was the fact that he knew Marigold felt his change of heart as something personal, as up until he ‘betrayed’ Voldemort, they had been together. Although Draco had considered their relationship as a fling, she had expected him to propose – which he hadn’t. Now she was married to Geoffrey Nott, a man that had always hated Draco. Putting together a vindictive woman and a dangerous man such as Nott meant that he was certainly going to suffer something way worse than death.

“You look horrible… Your mother would be ashamed right now: drunk, vomiting all over her imported carpets and getting pissed with blood traitors and mudbloods” Draco glared at her upon hearing that word “It’s a pity, really” she murmured dragging the end of her wand from his chin to his cheek “to have to destroy such a handsome face”

“What the fuck do you mea…”

He couldn’t end his question as a blinding light hit him straight in his face, leaving him immobilised and helpless on the sofa. He had been petrified. From the corner of his eye, he could see Marigold’s back while she argued in whispers with the other two death-eaters accompanying her. What seemed like long minutes later, one of them approached him with his wand aimed his way.

“ _Imperio”_ Draco could feel his body able to move again, but it wouldn’t follow his mind’s orders “Drink.”

He reached the goblet Marigold offered, filled with a translucent and thick liquid with golden sparkles. A potion of some sort. Some kind of poison, maybe? He unsuccessfully tried to fight the man’s order. Bringing the glass to his lips, he tried to summon his most loyal elf, Dobby, with non-verbal magic. He drank that disgusting liquid that burned his throat as slow as he could, begging his magic to reach Dobby.

Just as he was about to drink the last sips of the liquid, the cup fell to the floor, Draco falling too, as his body twisted and contorted in agonizing pain. He could hear the _pops_ of the death eaters disapparating, and he could feel someone levitating him while his body kept writhing in pain.

Then came the darkness and the heat. So much heat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters and places from Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Only those you don't recognise are mine.
> 
> Soooo, here's the next chapter! Slightly longer than the first one, too.  
> I'm honestlly overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter! Thanks for reading and following this story! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I can't wait to know what you think!  
> A/N: Just a quick reminder that English is not my mother tongue and this piece is unbeta'ed, so you might find spelling/grammar mistakes (please do tell me if you find any).  
> Also, this is an AU so don't worry if the timeline seems confusing - it's completely different from the original books' timeline!

CHAPTER ONE

* * *

**_150 years later_ **

"Don't you think you should reconsider this, Hermione?"

"Don't start, Ronald"

"But, Mione…"

"I said don't start!" Hermione snorted and folded her arms before her chest "What do you two care about it, anyway?"

Harry and Ron had met her for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron that night after receiving an owl informing them of her plan and were currently trying to talk her out of it.

"Listen, Hermione" Harry looked at her with his emerald eyes full of worry "We know this is part of your job, but you need to understand that as your friends, we worry about you."

"Well, you don't _have_ to! I'm a fully capable witch, thank you."

"It's not that" said Harry rapidly.

"We know how fully capable you are" Ron rolled his eyes "But you need to admit that sometimes you kind of loose your m…"

"What he means" Harry interrupted him, seeing how Hermione's face started to turn red – angry red "What he means is that this plan of yours seems a bit dangerous and impulsive."

Hermione frowned at her best friends. The three of them had been inexplicably close ever since the met their first year at Hogwarts. They knew her better than anyone. She knew they were right – she tended to be rather impulsive, sometimes making harsh decisions. But she was also stubborn, so she wasn't about to tell them that. In fact, their little chat was only making her want to go ahead with her plan.

"I'm not changing my mind about this"

"See? I told you she still hasn't sorted out her priorities" Ron whispered to Harry.

Unfortunately, Hermione heard him.

"What was that, Ronald?"

"Look" Harry intervened again, kicking Ron's ankle beneath the table "the castle from that story of yours is not going to move. After all, it's been there for years, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah. But…"

"Merlin's beard, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed "It's January and you want to go to Inverchoran Wood, which, by the way, it's formed by miles and miles of _forest_ in the middle of nowhere. That area of the Highlands is bloody frozen at this time of the year. And you want to go there, _alone,_ to look for a castle that will still be there if you do this in June!"

Hermione glared at Ron's rising voice. Everyone dining at the Leaky in that moment was looking at them with curiosity. She took a deep breath before answering.

"I appreciate that you worry about me. Really, I do. But as you've said yourself, Harry… this is my job. I truly believe there is truth behind this legend, and I cannot remain idle by just because it's winter" she rolled her eyes "I'm going, whether you like it or not".

Hermione worked for the Ministry of Magic, at a new division inside the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The division had been recently created and still lacked a name, but its main function was to research cold case files. Her job consisted basically on reading books, journal and newspaper's articles, or any other kind of document, both muggle and magical, related to stories and urban myths that might have had an impact in the magical world.

She loved her job, as she had to research each story and discover if it had actually happened. If it had happened, she had to inform the Department for damage control. Up to that day, she'd been able to prove the veracity of some of Grimm brothers' tales – which had led the Department to think that they had been wizards or squibs. For this reason, they thought that probably all of their tales were based on real events. Unfortunately, as many of said tales were starred by animals, it was not an easy task to prove the veracity of the stories.

Her last case had been the most terrifying experience of her life: Hansel and Gretel. She spent months looking for any hints, until she finally found a small town in Germany, where she met an old man that guided her to an abandoned looking cottage inside of the forest. The place was surrounded by traces of magic that definitely weren't as old as they should be if the story was real, and the witch had died.

She spent the next weeks hidden under a dillusioment charm, watching the wooden cottage. One day, when she approached the cottage, it didn't look abandoned anymore. The place seemed to be built with colourful sweets. She saw three girls running towards the house and starting to eat everything they could; even Hermione felt the urge to do the same, and that's what made her react. She got close to the girls and told them to go away. As soon as they disappeared between the trees, the cottage looked abandoned again.

What she found inside of that place still sent chills down her spine; the witch's magic, although being dead, had somehow stayed attached to the old cottage, attracting kids when they were close by and then locking them inside, sucking their life force until they died.

Hermione saved those three girls, but based on the state of the little boy she found dead inside the house, if she had wandered inside the house before, she might have been able to save him, too. Later on, the Aurors told Hermione something she already suspected: the witch had created an Horcrux in the house and was trying to come back to life by killing all those children. They were still investigating how to destroy it and how was it possible that no one had reported the little boy's disappearance – and that of all the children long dead inside the witch's house.

That case had stroked a chord inside her, leaving her with horrifying nightmares for weeks to the point that she asked for another person to continue researching Grimm's tales. That happened two and a half moths ago, and ever since then, she had spent her days reading stories, myths and legends, looking for an interesting one that didn't seem too creepy.

Theodore Nott, one colleague from her division and former classmate from Hogwarts, had talked to her about the Legend of the Cursed Castle in Inverchoran – and Hermione knew immediately that that was exactly what she had been looking for. A myth about a cursed castle in Scotland, where it was said that a beast used to live in; a beast so horrifying that had died alone.

"Sorry, boys. I have already made up my mind about this; it's either doing this or spend more months locked up inside of my office reading all day."

"Thought you loved reading…" Ron grumbled and Hermione frowned at him "Bloody hell, Hermione. Don't look at me like that!"

"I'm leaving tomorrow" she ignored her friend "So I think I should get going…"

"Be careful, Hermione" Harry asked her "And at the first sign of danger, call me and I'll be there with a team of Aurors"

"Don't be dramatic, Harry" she rolled her eyes "I promise I'll be careful"

"I'm serious, Mione…"

"I know" she hugged him and smiled "I'll write every day. And if there's enough signal, I'll even videocall"

After saying goodbye to her best friends, she went back home and prepared her backpack. She had spelled it with an undetectable extension charm back at Hogwarts, so it looked like a small closet on the inside.

She took everything she thought she would need for the research; some muggle money, her laptop, all books in which the legend of the castle was mentioned, and all her winter clothes. Just in case, she added a personalised first aid kit, combining both muggle and magical products.

Leaving the clothes she would wear the next day out, she set the alarm to avoid falling asleep and losing the portkey. She closed her eyes with a borad smile on her face: she had a hunch that this time the trip was going to be worth it.

.-.-.-.

Hermione cursed for the thousandth time that afternoon. She had gone to a small village called Achnaschen, the closest to the woods and where the first documents mentioning the castle or the beast were located. It was the ninth day she went out to investigate Inverchoran Wood, and she hadn't found a single trace of magic yet. According to the documents she had, and the urban legends circulating in the village where she was staying, the myth couldn't have happened more than 200 years before, so the magic trail, although weak, should still be present.

At what point did she think the trip would be worth it?

It was cold, and she was hungry and tired... had she already mentioned that it was cold? Because she was freezing. Of course, when Harry and Ginny called her a few minutes later, she was perfectly fine. She wasn't going to give Harry the opportunity to tell her ' _I told you'_.

"What did you say, Hermione?" she heard Ginny ask "There's a lot of wind in the background and it's hard to hear you."

Putting a hand between her mouth and her phone, she repeated what she had just said.

"I said everything's great."

"Have you found anything yet?"

"Oh, uh... Well, I think I might have" she lied, not wanting to give her friends a reason to get her back home. Usually, it didn't take her more than a couple of days to find a magical trace.

"Wait a second" she heard Harry this time "Hermione, are you still in the woods? It's about to get dark, you should go back to town!"

"Sure I will, dad" Hermione mocked him.

"What he forgot to say is that you should go back to the village and go out for a drink, meet some handsome Scot to show you how to..."

Hermione rolled her eyes when Ginny began, once again, with her lately increasingly common lecture about Hermione's sex life - or lack of it. As she listened to her friend's babbling, she got to a part of the forest she hadn't seen when walking by before. The snow fell thicker there, but she could perfectly see a path flanked by tall trees; a gust of wind coming from that same path put her tangled, damp hair on her face, and she noticed a weak trail of magic in the air.

"I have to go," Hermione interrupted her friend "We'll talk tomorrow."

She hung up the phone without waiting for her friends' answer and put it back in her backpack. Closing her coat tightly, she began to walk among the trees. The snow reached her knees, which prevented her from walking as fast as she would like. Harry was right, it would be dark soon and being alone in the middle of the forest at night was not where she wanted to be. However, for some reason, she was sure that if she left now, she would not find this magical trail again the next day. It was the first trace of magic she had felt for almost two weeks since arriving Inverchoran, and although it may simply be due to a magical creature wandering around the forest, she needed to check it out – just in case.

The path was getting narrower, to a point where the branches of two trees fell low with the weight of the snow, creating the illusion of a fairy-tale-looking door frame. The sky was already dark, but the magic trail was getting stronger. Taking a deep breath, she decided to keep going; she got excited as she noticed she had just trespassed a magic ward – she didn't know why the ward allowed her to step through it but she was glad she could. About ten minutes later, she came to what had once clearly been a garden, and laying her hand on one of the frozen logs on the ground, she felt magic vibrating throughout that place.

But even more surprising was when she crossed the garden and reached a stone path from which someone had removed the snow, piled up on both sides of it. It was dark and the fog was so thick that Hermione could hardly see anything beyond her own hands. Pulling out her wand, she casted _lumos_ to light the way.

"Merlin's pants!" she exclaimed.

An impressive manor that could perfectly be considered a castle stood proudly before her eyes, in such good condition that for a moment she thought it was the actual home of an old magical family, like her colleague Nott, or her friend Neville Longbottom. However, the people from the village had informed her that no one lived inside the woods since the stories about the beast that inhabited the forest began; and that had happened more than a century ago.

No one had seen or heard this beast in the last seventy years, but it could well be because no one had dared to enter the woods up to that day. The villagers had thought she was crazy for spending the whole day there, coming back just to eat and sleep. She herself had been about to give up that afternoon.

But this place changed everything.

The manor was huge and it was at least three stories tall; a few more, taking into account the towers that flanked the building. The entire manor was white, and although the darkness made it difficult for her to appreciate the details, Hermione could see that the walls had a gray-ish hue and were covered in vines.

She approached the black steel fence surrounding the manor, resting her hands on the bars of the door, and leaning in to look at the grounds surrounding it. Hermione gasped when the door opened easily, making a squeaky noise, and then it closed itself after her. The trail of magic was gone; instead, actual magic vibrated around with a magnitude that caused goose bumps all over her body. That place had been abandoned for at least 100 years, so magic shouldn't be active – and certainly not with such intensity. Which meant that the manor was not abandoned, and it probably wasn't the legend's castle either.

 _Just my luck_ , she thought, rolling her eyes and walking towards the manor's front door.

With every step she took she approached the entrance of the manor; with every step, she realised that although in good condition, the building actually seemed abandoned and that was confusing. How was it possible? What was the source of the magic she felt, then?

Everything around her was dark, and she was too distracted thinking about the origin of the place's magic that she didn't see where she was going, and tripped. She fell to the ground, and her wand escaped her grip, the light fading and leaving her in the dark.

Cursing through her teeth, she kneeled on the ground and started to blindly look for her wand with her hands. Just when she grabbed what seemed to be her wand, she heard wolf howls way too close for her liking. Without bothering to cast another _lumos_ , she stood up and ran forward, where she thought the manor's entrance was. She didn't apparate away, because she knew that if she did it, she wouldn't be able to go back to this place. She was certain that the ward she had trespassed probably prevented people from apparating nearby – as most magic wards usually did.

She pushed the door and entered the manor. She should have been surprised that the door opened so easily, but fear ran through her veins – she wasn't afraid of wolves; she was afraid that the howl was from werewolves. There was a pack led by a murderer named Fenrir Greyback who had been randomly attacking people lately; Ron and Harry had been following him for months now. Hermione was terrified, because she could easily defend herself from a wolf, or even a pack of wolves... but Fenrir Greyback had somehow equipped all members of his pack with wands. A lone werewolf was already dangerous, and she didn't want to imagine how it would be to face a werewolf with a wand.

She closed the door behind her and rested her back against it, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. When she finally opened her eyes, she gasped at the scene before her. Impressive chandeliers hanging from towering ceilings, with all the lights off except for one, which stood just above her. The imposing space was therefore dimly lit, and Hermione could appreciate a multitude of portraits hanging from the walls among the shadows. Huge stairs stood in front of her, going up to darkness of the next floor; her attention diverted to her right, where large wooden doors gave way to an incredibly elegant, if dusty, living room. The fireplace was lit, and she quickñy got close to the heat of the fire to warm up her body.

"Hello?" she called out, but the only answer she received was her echo.

A shiver ran down her back, with the sudden feeling of being watched. She knew she wasn't alone, because someone must had lit the fireplace. However, the cobwebs and the layer of dust in the room were so deep, and the smell so musty, that she doubted anyone actually lived there. That place didn't seem to have been inhabited in years. But how was it possible for the fireplace to be lit? Hermione hope this wasn't another people-devouring house.

She knew she should investigate the manor, find out who inhabited it (if someone actually lived there) and apologize for invading their home. But she was exhausted, hungry and freezing, for the snow had soaked her clothes. Quickly casting a _scourgify_ on the sofa next to the fireplace, she lay holding tightly her wand in her hands. She decided that she would first rest for a few minutes to warm up a bit, and then she would investigate the manor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter!
> 
> Sorry for the late update. It takes some time to translate each chapter and ensure it's the best that I can do! I think it's safe to say that updates will be once every two weeks. I'll try to shorten the time between updates but I can't promise anything.
> 
> If I was overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter, you can't even begin to imagine how I'm feeling right now. This is not only the first Dramione I write, but also the first story I publish in English and the amount of favs/follows/kudos/reviews/comments... is bigger than in the stories published in my native language (spanish). Although I have to be honest... this also makes me feel a bit anxious that I won't meet your expectations. Anyway, THANK YOU for reading and supporting this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I can't wait to know what you think!
> 
> A/N: As always, just a quick reminder that English is not my mother tongue and this piece is unbeta'ed, so you might find spelling/grammar mistakes (please do tell me if you find any so I can correct them).

Hermione opened her eyes, placing a hand in front of them and blinking several times as she felt the heat of the sunlight warming her face. Turning her head to the left, she focused her gaze on a darker spot of her hostel room, blinking several times to get used to the morning light.

Only that wall wasn't her hostel's room wall.

_Where am I?_

She jumped, nearly falling off the couch she was in. Feeling a bit dizzy from the sudden movement, Hermione looked around. To her left there was an elegant and large stone and marble fireplace, full of embers still lit that heated the room; she was in an impressive living room with furniture that looked like it was taken from another era. A floor-to-ceiling window showed the snow-covered exterior, illuminating the room and displaying the dust particles flying in the air. The entire room was covered in a thick layer of dust, so much so that her footsteps could be seen on the floor tiles.

The memories came back suddenly: she had found the manor. Well, she still didn't know if it was the castle from the stories, but she would soon find out.

She moved her legs to the side of the sofa, planting her feet on the floor, and with the movement she noticed the heavy and warm blanket that had been covering her falling to the ground with a quiet thud. Next to her feet on the floor, there was a tray with a full English breakfast that made her stomach growl. However, her experience at the witch's cottage in Germany made her stop before eating anything from that tray.

She had no doubt that someone was there, someone besides herself. Last night she had been too tired, and she'd ended up sleeping all night instead of the ten minutes she had intended to… but she perfectly remembered that she had not covered herself with any blanket – because there hadn't been no blanket at all. Someone had covered her while she slept.

The fact that whoever lived there had bothered to do that made her think that the manor's inhabitants had no intention of hurting her. She looked hungrily at breakfast again but shook her head.

_Better safe –or rather, hungry– than sorry._

"Hello?" She called but got no answer.

Wand in hand, she stood up from the sofa. She sent a quick text message to her friends so as not to worry them before leaving her backpack on the floor next to the sofa. She stretched out with a grunt, loosening her stiff muscles from sleeping on the sofa; giving one last look of longing to the appetizing breakfast, she left the room to explore the manor and find its owner.

The morning light entered through the huge windows of the mansion, illuminating the entire floor. Everything was covered in a deep layer of dust, and Hermione thought that whoever lived there needed to take cleaning more seriously.

"Hello?" She shouted "I know there is someone here"

Once again, silence reigned in the place.

She started up the stairs, her footsteps echoing loudly on the huge manor. Thank Merlin that the entire mansion was filled with ceiling to floor windows that illuminated her path. She hated the dark, and she wouldn't like to explore that enormous and apparently empty place in the dark –she would have done it either way as it was part of her job. Hermione was surprised that she had managed to fall asleep in that house at all, although she supposed that was due to how exhausted she had been.

Once she reached the second floor, she tried again.

"Hello!" She yelled louder as she walked into the hallway to her right. "Hello !?"

She kept calling for whoever lived there in every room she entered, all equally elegant and dusty, equipped with ancient and elegant furnishings. She was going up the stairs that led to one of the manor's towers when a high-pitched voice stopped her.

"Missus must not go up there!" The voice screeched.

Hermione turned, determined to lecture the rude person who'd had her screaming all over the place without answering her once, but she closed her mouth as she looked down and found a house elf looking at her with concern.

"Why not?" She asked, "and why have you been ignoring me?"

The elf ignored her questions.

"The young missus must come with me," he said, turning around and descending the stairs.

Hermione, though annoyed at being ignored, followed him.

"Where's your master?" She asked curiously.

"Why do you assume Dobby has a master, missus?"

"Well, I have yet to meet a free elf"

"Well, now you do," he replied in a haughty tone, which although finding it quite annoying, amazed Hermione.

"Oh," she blinked twice a bit surprised at his answer "Do you live alone here then?"

Once again, the elf ignored her.

"Where are you taking me?" She tried with another question.

"To the living room. Dobby woke up early to make breakfast and the missus ignored it. Dobby feels insulted, missus"

Hermione quickly apologized and kept asking questions as she followed him into the living room where she had spent the night. She realized that the elf ignored every question related to the owner of the house, which made her suspect that Dobby was not alone there.

She ate breakfast in the company of the elf, using that time to keep asking questions left and right, trying to get more information about the manor and its owner. But there was no way to make Dobby answer.

"Dobby, if you live here ... why is everything full of dust?"

At that moment, she heard the front door of the manor loudly close, followed by strong footsteps that sounded closer and closer, until finally, someone spoke with a low, deep voice that gave her goosebumps –in more ways than one. Just as most women had a weakness for the more visual assets of men (abs, mouth, height, hair color/eyes...), Hermione took notice of other details, one of those being their voice.

And that man had a voice that should be illegal.

"Why bother cleaning if we never have guests?"

Hermione turned her face toward the living room door so fast that she felt her neck's bones creak. She stifled a gasp, impressed with what she saw. A huge man, who had to be at least six and a half feet tall, was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. She couldn't really see much of him, as he was wearing a robe with the hood on, completely hiding his face. His hands were wrapped in leather gloves, his feet inside combat boots –all of him dressed in black. That man was huge, and Hermione was immediately and inexplicably drawn to him.

Realizing the awkward silence suddenly surrounding the room, she dropped the toast she had been about to bite when the man had arrived. Quickly wiping herself clean with a napkin, she stood up and got closer to him.

"Hello!" She greeted nervous, because his huge body intimidated her a little "Are you the owner of the manor? I'm sorry for breaking into your house last night, I thought that..."

"Don't worry," the man interrupted, and the low, somewhat husky tone of his voice surprised Hermione again. She felt her skin bristle in response, "I'm the one who should apologize here. As I said, we never have guests, and it's embarrassing that you find my home in this deplorable state"

Another awkward silence grew between them.

"Hermione Granger," she said suddenly, offering her hand.

He seemed to consider whether to accept her handshake or not, until he finally grabbed it. Hermione watched in fascination as her hand seemed incredibly tiny wrapped inside his impressive hand. She had always considered herself a very normal girl: average height, normal weight... However, next to this imposing man, she felt small and delicate –and she wasn't sure if she liked that feeling.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger." Hermione realized that he hadn't said his name.

"Uhm, yup" she answered, confused "you too, Mr...?"

Another awkward silence, and she released his hand. Hermione looked up at him trying to see his face, but it was completely hidden under the hood of the robe.

"Tell me, Miss Granger ... How did you get here?"

"What's your name?" Hermione ignored his question, annoyed with both the elf and the man for ignoring her. Silence again "Okay, that's it. Listen, I know I came into your house uninvited, but right now you are being a right prick"

She immediately put a hand on her mouth, not quite believing she had just called prick a complete stranger. After two seconds of dead silence, he laughed out loud, and in spite of herself, Hermione found his laugh incredibly sexy. Shaking his hidden head, he unfolded his arms and turned around, leaving the living room.

"And now you turn your back on me!" she complained indignantly, following him.

"As you said yourself, Miss Granger, it is you who have invaded my home. Before I reveal my identity, I'd like to fucking know what the bloody hell is it that you are doing on my property, and how the fuck have you gotten here"

Well, he was right. But still, he was rude. And in one sentence he had cursed so much that Hermione couldn't help but think that Ron at his side would seem polite. Molly would probably faint after hearing that man talk.

Just when she was about to give him a piece of her mind, the elf interrupted.

"Do you want Dobby to prepare lunch?"

"Please," his hidden face nodded at the elf "Will you stay and have lunch with us, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at him astonished. She was as confused as when she tried to keep track of the _quaffle_ in a Quidditch match: he had gone from greeting her with impeccable manners, to ignoring her, to answering her with a very colourful vocabulary, to finally end up inviting her to have lunch with him.

_What in the actual hell?_

"Will you tell me who you are?"

"Will you answer my questions?" he replied.

"Will you answer mine?"

She heard him laugh, and once again she was a little stunned at the effect that sound had on her.

"Prepare lunch for three, Dobby. Miss Granger will accompany us today"

After saying that, he turned again and started up the stairs.

"I thought Dobby was a free elf ..." Hermione commented, following him.

"He is a free elf" the man answered without offering an explanation and turned to his left to take the stairs to the third floor.

Hermione followed him quietly until they entered a room that looked like an office. There was a huge and elegant dark mahogany desk by the window with stacks of parchment neatly piled on the surface; at the other end of the room there was a fireplace that had two comfortable wine-colored armchairs on each side. Unlike the rest of the house, that room was impeccable – which meant that he probably spent a lot of time in there.

"So, Miss Granger," the man spoke again, sitting down in one of the armchairs and gesturing her to do the same "What are you doing here?"

"At least you could take off the hood," she muttered before answering his question. "I work for the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Accidents and Catastrophes in the World of Magic. I investigate old cases that were never solved" she explained, not wanting to reveal much information for some reason "Yesterday I was in the woods, investigating for my current case, and before I knew it, it was already dark. I heard some noises that scared me and I entered your manor"

"Interesting," he murmured before clearing his throat and speaking louder." Although you have yet to explain how you got into my manor. What is this case you are investigating?"

Hermione looked at him with a frown.

"That's confidential information," she lied.

"For some reason I don't quite believe that," he sounded amused "If that were the case, you would have lied about your job. Why tell me that you are here investigating if you cannot tell me what you are investigating? I'd believe that excuse if you were an Unspeakable, or even an Auror. And you are none"

"Are you calling me a liar? You are incredibly rude"

_And smart._

Harry or Ron would have believed her the first time, and they knew her better than anyone.

"My apologies, Miss Granger. I've already told you that I don't get visitors often, and I've lost the habit of having ... _civilized_ conversations. I did not mean to disturb you or offend you in any way"

His voice sounded sincere, so Hermione decided to be honest, too. After all, if this man lived here, in the mountains, he would probably have information about the castle and the beast. He was right: she was investigating and for that she had to tell him _what_ she was researching.

"My current case is related to the legend of an enchanted castle in these forests, in which a beast supposedly lived. Said beast terrified the inhabitants of neighbouring towns. Yesterday I was looking for some magic trail that would take me to the castle, and I thought I had found it but it was actually just the trace of your manor's wards."

The man was silent.

"Do you know the legend?" Hermione asked, rubbing her hands together from the cold temperature.

The room might be pristine, but it was certainly the coldest one of the entire manor. The man took off one of the gloves and stretched his arm in the fireplace's direction. Suddenly, a small flame shot from his hand to the logs, setting them on fire and beginning to heat the room. The man quickly put on the glove again, and Hermione blinked twice, as she thought she had seen his skin gleam.

How had he done that? Non-verbal and wandless magic?

Hermione was impressed. The only spells she managed to do with non-verbal magic were simple, like accio. And still, she needed to have her wand in hand. Only truly powerful and experienced wizards and witches could perform magic like the one she had just witnessed.

"I may know it better than anyone. Tell me, Miss Granger" The man leaned back on the backrest, placing his hands on his lap. "What would happen if you found such a castle?"

"If I found the castle, and I were able to confirm it to be the one of the legend, I would inform the Ministry. From there, the rest of the divisions in my Department would be in charge of carrying out damage control, evaluating and taking the necessary measures. If there was anything dangerous," she added, recalling once again the case of the child-eating house, "they would send in an Auror patrol first"

"Interesting," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Let's say that the… _beast_ , as you've called it, was there. What would happen then?"

Hermione smiled.

"Oh, don't fret. The beast is dead" she said matter-of-factly.

"But let's imagine it is not dead. Imagine that the original story did not occur in a castle, but in a manor. Imagine that it happened in _this_ manor, and that the beast is currently here. _Alive_. What would you have to do, Miss Granger?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters and places from Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Only those you don't recognise are mine.
> 
> I think I won't get tired of saying I'm overwhelmed by the response to this story. But it's true. I can't thank you enough for your reviews, follows, kudos, favorites... Seriously, THANK YOU for reading and supporting the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I can't wait to know what you think about it!
> 
> A/N: As always, just a quick reminder that English is not my mother tongue and this piece is unbeta'ed, so you might find spelling/grammar mistakes (please do tell me if you find any so I can correct them).

Draco Malfoy watched as the girl in front of him frowned for the millionth time, only this time, she was lost in her thoughts. She was beautiful even with that frustrated expression on her face.

Last night had been, at the very least, unexpected.

When he felt someone going through his wards he automatically stood alert. A _muggle_ would be unable to do such a feat, which meant that it must had been a magical being. But how did they get there? The path had to remain hidden for all, even magical folk. Perhaps he had to reinforce the wards that hid and protected him from the rest of the world.

It was startling when a short time later, his manor opened the doors to a young girl who seemed terrified. As soon as he saw her come in, Dobby appeared next to him, babbling about the cure of his curse. Draco ignored him, and stayed in the shadows, lighting the fireplace of the living room. The young woman fell into his trap and walked straight into the room.

The girl shouted a _hello_ that resonated throughout the manor, but he kept hiding on top of a wall ledge, watching the girl take off her gloves, scarf and woolly hat, clean the sofa and lie down. If the house had allowed her in, it was because she didn't mean any harm. But what was that girl doing in his house then?

Once she fell asleep, Draco sought a thick blanket and placed it on her body, looking at her face now that she couldn't see him. She was young, not looking older than twenty years old. And she was beautiful. Her brown, damp and tangled hair fell in messy curls on her face, partially covering it. She had olive skin that looked soft and free of imperfections. Her nose was straight and fine, dotted with freckles. Her mouth was small, with thin, sensual lips, slightly chapped; her cheeks and nose were rosy, too, probably due to the cold weather. Her lashes were thick and curly, creating long shadows on her cheekbones.

He had a sudden urge to touch her skin, but he managed to walk away before getting carried away. Before going to sleep, he asked Dobby to feed her when she woke up, as he would go check the surrounding area and reinforce the wards first thing in the morning.

What Draco hadn't expected when he came back from doing just that the next morning was to find Dobby suffering the inquisition from the girl. Nor had it been expected that such a sweet-looking girl, Hermione Granger, as she had presented herself, would be so awfully impertinent. But the least expected thing was that he would found sexy the insolent tone in which she addressed him.

He hadn't had a conversation with a woman in decades, and although he knew that society, as well as society's mindset and customs had changed since he was cursed, he still struggled to get used to women behaving that way. It didn't bother him, rather the opposite. Before he was turned into the monster he was now, he had always been interested in strong, confident and independent women, who didn't allow to be treated as doormats. Such a deed was not very common back in the 19th century, and that was one of the reasons why he hadn't gotten married before being cursed. He had been almost twenty-six years old at that moment, and almost all of his friends had been already married.

This was a problem, because so far, the woman in front of him was exactly like that. Add to it the fact that he found her strikingly attractive, and he was inevitably interested in her.

Hermione had just told him why she was there, not knowing that she was calling him a _beast,_ and not knowing that his mansion was the castle she was looking for. Should he tell her the truth? He didn't want her to leave, not yet. He'd been alone for so long...

His visits to Knocturn Alley weren't for socializing purposes. He went there a couple of times a year, always under powerful disillusioning spells, to temporarily escape his personal prison and breathe in some fresh air. He went to Knocturn Alley because there no one would wonder why he was hooded and never showed his face. These visits had allowed him to keep up with the advances of society; there was one time when thirty years had passed between visits, and it was a real shock when he entered Borgin and Burkes and saw the strange way people dressed; Thank Merlin, robes seemed be a never-ending fashion trend in the magical world, so he did not attract any unwanted attention. That was the day he decided he should go out more often – just in case.

"In that hypothetical case," Hermione pulled him out of his thoughts, fixing her stunning brown eyes with little golden specks into him, obviously wondering what Draco looked like under the hood, "you would be the beast. I very much doubt that Dobby could terrorize anyone", she let out a soft laugh that made Draco smile.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Miss Granger," he replied, knowing that Dobby was a force to be reckoned. "You say I'd be the beast. Does that mean you find me terrifying?"

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds before answering.

"Well, I can't deny that I find you imposing" she nodded, thoughtful "But I'm not afraid; I do think it's a little weird that you hid your face and refuse to tell me your name. It makes you look suspicious. Should I be terrified?"

Draco deliberately ignored her question, knowing how much that would annoy Hermione. He wanted to see her cheeks turning red with irritation again. She looked adorable like that.

"You still haven't told me what would happen in that hypothetical case, Miss Granger."

"Oh, right" she looked at the fire and then at him. "Well, in that hypothetical case, if you were the beast, even if you don't seem to be dangerous, I should tell the aurors. The investigation would be transferred to their department"

_No!_

"Wouldn't you like to be the one to lead the research?"

Hermione smiled.

"You have no idea. Anyway, this is all hypothetical. And I remember you promised to answer my questions if I answered yours."

Draco nodded, smiling even though he knew she could not see his face. She wasn't afraid now, but as soon as she saw his face, she'd run out like so many others had done before her.

"That's right. Miss Granger, I own this manor"

"Uh, yes, you already told me that. What you haven't told me is _who_ you are"

"That's my answer. If you look around carefully, you'll understand"

"I hate these little games, " she crossed her arms with a grimace, and Draco found it incredibly cute. "Is it that hard for you to tell me your name?"

Draco shrugged.

"Just trying to make things interesting", he got up from the couch, approaching the door to get out of the room. "My name doesn't matter, anyway. You know me as the _beast,_ so you can call me that. You can stay here as long as you want while you run your research and find out who I am"

Draco left his office. He knew Hermione would be right behind him in a matter of seconds, vomiting hundreds of questions a minute, so he disapparated to his quarters. Once there, he called Dobby.

"Can you show Miss Granger her temporary quarters? I think she's going to want to stay for a while,' Draco said.

"Of course, Mr. Draco"

"And, for now, don't call me Draco in front of her."

"What should Dobby call Mr. Draco, sir?"

"Uhm, _Beast._ That's what she called me"

"But Mr. Draco is no beast!" Dobby exclaimed, angry.

"Oh, Dobby. You just see me with good eyes," Draco joked. "We'll see what Miss Granger thinks once she takes a look at the _beast_ "

Dobby left, seemingly furious at what Hermione had called him. But it was true. Draco was a monster, a beast. His appearance was not that of a man, and he knew that by the time Hermione Granger saw him, she would be so frightened that she would bring in the aurors.

He just wanted to enjoy her company for a little more, even knowing how that would end. But maybe it was for the best, right? He had been locked in the body of a monster for one hundred and fifty years, with no cure for his curse. And he had wanted to be dead for one hundred and forty-nine years.

His appearance deprived him of what he had always longed for: to find love. But how could he find it? He stopped trying after a few years with his new body. Women fled in fear as soon as they saw what he looked like. All the people he knew were long dead, while he was still alive, not having aged a single day, and surviving all his attempts to take his own life away.

For the time being, he would enjoy Hermione until the young woman demanded to see his appearance, as Draco had no doubt that she would. Then he'd let the Aurors come after him, and accept the fate he would surely meet as soon as they saw him: death. For he had already proved that the curse did not allow him to kill himself, and Dobby, being a free elf, refused to obey his order to kill him.

Maybe Dobby had been right last night, and Hermione was the end of his curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little shorter, but the next one will be longer! I think it was obvious that the hooded man was Draco, so I decided this chapter could be a little piece of his POV.
> 
> What do you think will happen next?
> 
> I can't wait to know your thoughts on this chapter!
> 
> Moma xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters and places from Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Only those you don't recognise are mine.
> 
> First of all, sorry for the super late update. I know it's been two months since the last update, and truth is I haven't had much time, and there were also some matters of the heart (aka heartbreak) that left me a bit apathetic and uninspired. All is (almost) well now, so I hope to update sooner next time.
> 
> Thanks for reading and supporting this story. You really have no idea how much I appreciate all your reviews, follows, kudos, favorites... The response to this story is simply amazing. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I can't wait to know what you think about it!
> 
> A/N: As always, just a quick reminder that English is not my mother tongue and this piece is unbeta'ed, so you might find spelling/grammar mistakes (please do tell me if you find any so I can correct them).

_CHAPTER FOUR_

* * *

A day had passed, and Hermione was desperate.

She was sure that the man was constantly teasing her.

In addition to that, he had refused to answer all the questions she had asked him. Why did people think he was a beast? How long had he been there? Why did he live alone with an elf? Why was his mansion hidden for all eyes? Who cursed him?

"Could you please take that damn hood off? It's rude to eat with a covered face. And with gloves on" she pointed at his hands and cloak.

"Looks like Miss Granger's a little upset, don't you think, Dobby?" The man ignored her for the millionth time and Hermione just couldn't take it anymore. A witch had her limits.

"A little upset, you think?" she exclaimed, "I should leave this place," she rose from the table. "You're taunting me, and I don't like people insulting my intelligence"

Silence reigned in the dining room for several tense seconds. The man dropped his cutlery on top of the plate with a loud clink followed by the sound of the chair when he rose from the table, slightly turning his hooded face towards the elf.

"Dobby," he mused "Do you mind leaving us alone?"

The elf nodded and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"Didn't you just ask me to take off my cloak and gloves? I thought you wanted to know who I am," he said taking off his gloves.

Oh, Hermione already had her suspicions about that man's identity. After all, although she had only seen him during meals, he had given her access to his entire manor after giving her that enigmatic hint: ' _If you look around carefully, you'll understand_ '.

It hadn't been that hard to find out about his identity either, but the chances that her guess was right were so remote, impossible even within the magical world, that she wouldn't believe it until she saw it with her own eyes.

She had dusted off all the portraits she had found; almost all of them had ignored her when she began asking questions, and those who didn't ignore her, insulted her. That man had some unfriendly ancestors... that is, if they were his ancestors, of course.

She hadn't had much luck trying to discover his identity until that afternoon: she had entered an impressive dining room on the second floor, three times larger than that on the main floor. Just above a large fireplace that was definitely to be used for the Floo Network, there was a huge portrait of a family Hermione had seen in her history books.

"I know who you …!" Hermione ran out of words as the hooded man threw the gloves into the centre of the dining table, leaving bare the skin of his hands.

Although it just wasn't _skin_. It looked more like scales. Tiny, shiny white scales all over his hands. Hands with fingers that ended in some pointed and silvery fingernails, which were actually very claw-looking.

 _Galloping gargoyles_.

"Do you?" He scoffed, "Do you actually know who I am? Then why don't you come here and see if you're fucking right?"

Hermione flinched and clenched her fists as she heard him being so foul-mouthed again.

All in all the man was being incredibly nice and polite towards her, demonstrating a level of education that suggested he had definitely grown up in an upper-class setting. Whether or not he was who she thought he was, his manners definitely showed a pure-blooded breeding.

However, she had soon realised that despite his impeccable manners, he loved to swear (an act of rebellion, perhaps?) and enjoyed getting on her nerves. And worst of all was that even though it went against what she had always believed, Hermione liked him to be like this – although sometimes she wondered if maybe that was just because of how much she liked his voice. He was kind of annoying, really; he ignored her questions on purpose, he swore whenever he could, randomly making mysterious comments, as if they were riddles...

And now the twat wanted her to take off his robe? He probably thought she'd refuse to do it, and he was only teasing her once again just to annoy the hell out of her. Well, he was wrong.

Taking several steps to his side, Hermione took a deep breath before looking at him. He was there with his arms folded, proving that he hadn't the slightest intention of removing his hood on his own.

"I know you're a Malfoy"

Suddenly nervous, she raised her hands to the hood that was hiding his face. She was once more stunned at his height when she needed to get on her tiptoes –and almost jump a little– to reach the top of his head.

Every time she'd been near him, she'd gotten nervous... Oh well, who was she trying to fool? Every single time she heard his voice, she got nervous. Or maybe she was just turned on? It made her crazy to think that she had the hots for a man whose face she hadn't even seen –a man that had probably been making fun of her for two days. It didn't matter how sexy his voice was, or how tall, intelligent and foul-mouthed he was.

"Correct," he murmured in that deep tone that made Hermione tingle to her finger-tips. Did he know the effect he had on her?

She grabbed the hood's thick cloth and began to lift it. The first thing she saw was his neck and chin, the line of his jaw strong and sharp; there were two small, pointed bumps (a malformation?) coming out of his chin. She stood there, motionless when she saw a replica of his hands' skin on his face: white, scaly, and shiny. Fixing her eyes on his neck, she wondered if maybe it was all some kind of optical illusion.

And then a pair of impossibly warm hands, almost uncomfortably hot, were placed on hers, forcing her to remove the rest of the hood.

"But the question here should be which Malfoy do you think I am, Miss Granger"

He let go of her hands, and Hermione swallowed the knot in her throat and looked up. She stepped back and a small gasp escaped between her lips upon seeing him. What had happened to him? How did he end up looking like that?

All his skin was pearl-white looking and covered in scales. What made it shine were some weird gold and silver tattoos that ran all over the surface. His face wasn't human, although he bore a certain resemblance to a human face. She could perfectly see sharp fangs peeking between his lips, at least three times larger than they should be. On each side of his face, just above the eyebrows, were a pair of horns of the same silver colour of his nails, which curled back around his scalp with the ends pointing upwards. His ears were pointed, similar to those of the elves. He had no hair on his head, except for a pair of white-blonde eyebrows and his eyelashes. The most human thing about his face was his gaze, framed by lashes so dark and thick that highlighted the colour of his eyes: an incredible light grey that looked like liquid silver.

It was those eyes that finally gave him away.

The family portrait she had found was that of the last Malfoys of the family line: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, with their son, Draco. Due to their participation in the Great Wizarding War, everyone knew their story. However, for the first time in her life she had to thank Harry and not a book that she was able to find out who was the man before her.

Harry's godfather, a Black disinherited for befriending half-bloods and muggle-borns, had told them the curious trait from his family's genetic heritage: all the males had the same eyes.

Hermione knew it was true at that moment because the eyes she was looking at were practically identical to Sirius Black's – the only difference was that the eyes of the man in front of her had a thin, vertical pupil.

Narcissa had originally been a Black, married by an arranged marriage to Lucius Malfoy. There was only one Malfoy with Black blood in his veins: Narcissa's son.

"The last Malfoy there is record of was called Draco" Hermione whispered, unable to take her gaze away from his incredible eyes. How was it even possible? "But, if you were him, you would be..."

"One hundred and seventy-five years old," he said, closing his eyes when she raised a hand to touch the scaly skin on his face.

Hermione looked at him in amazement. Yes, his appearance wasn't that of a human. But it also wasn't that of a beast, although his skin was covered with shiny scales, and the horns gave him a certain resemblance to a dragon... She should find it frightening, and yet she found him fascinating. But how had he survived so long _and_ being young? Magical people lived much longer than Muggles, but any wizard or witch above the age of one hundred years would look old. However, this... _man_ before her, though it was hard to know from his appearance, didn't seem to be much older than her.

How? How was that even possible? What kind of magic was capable of achieving something like that? Now that she had found the beast – _the man_ – she had been looking for, millions of questions started to pile up in her head.

When her hand finally met his skin, she was surprised to notice its high temperature, as well as its feel. It was impossibly smooth, and nothing at all like what she imagined it would be. She stroked his cheek, fascinated. And then she noticed movement behind him and stepped back with a frown, making him open his eyes.

"What was that?"

"Oh," he smiled, showing his huge fangs and a pair of dimples she refused to think were cute "you mean my tail?"

Hermione gave him a pointed look. Was he teasing her again? He rolled his eyes and unbuttoned his robe, taking it off and leaving it carefully folded on the chair he had occupied over dinner. Hermione blinked twice, surprised when she saw that he was dressed in modern clothes. He wore an emerald-green cashmere sweater, black jeans, and combat boots. She made a mental note to ask him later how he'd gotten those clothes if he was locked up. But her sight was quickly fixed on a long tail as white as the rest of his skin moving behind him.

"How is it possible that I didn't notice _that_ before?" Hermione asked confused. It was big and impossible not to see.

"I may no longer look like it, but I'm still a wizard and I know how to use disillusioning spells," he taunted, folding his arms over his chest. They spent several seconds in silence until he sighed. "What do you want to know? I know you have questions..."

"Are you really Draco Malfoy?"

"I stopped being Draco Malfoy one hundred and fifty years ago. Now I'm _this_ , a monster" he looked at himself and then at her with a raised eyebrow "A fucking beast"

A beast? That man was no beast. He was a person; very self-centered and full of himself, with a special taste for making her angry... but there was nothing about him that would make him a beast. Not even his appearance, no matter how little he looked like a human.

She was going to retort, but he kept talking.

"I suppose you'll call the Aurors now, so if you don't mind, Miss Granger, I'd like to have a few minutes to sort out some business"

"What?" She asked confused, "Why would I call the Aurors?"

"Isn't that the protocol?" He quipped, "You told me. If the beast existed, you would call the Aurors"

Hermione was silent, for it was true.

The problem was, she didn't want to call the Aurors. This man's mystery was too interesting to refuse the opportunity to uncover it. And besides, she knew what the Aurors would do as soon as they saw him. It didn't matter that her best friend was the son of the Head of the DMLE. In a case like this, there would be no favours. They'd probably call the Department of Mysteries and then they'd lock him up, interrogate him... They would treat him like the wild animal he had probably been considered in the past.

"I'm not going to follow protocol," she looked Draco in the eye. "No one needs to know I found you, Mr. Malfoy"

"Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what?"

"I'm a beast, Miss Granger" he smiled bitterly. "I'm a sad attempt of human with the looks of a fucking dragon. People run away when they see me because I'm a monster. Why do you think there are all those scary stories about me?"

"Well, I can't deny that the horns draw a little attention... not to mention the scales and the tail. Oh, and the shiny skin!" Hermione began to say, smiling at the sight of Draco raising an eyebrow. "But there's nothing in your looks that makes me run away. You're not a beast, nor a monster. You're a man"

Draco stared at her intensely, completely silent. Hermione began to get nervous under his gaze, so after a few long seconds in complete silence, she turned around and headed for the dining room's door. Before she left, she turned and looked at him.

"I'm not leaving. I'd like to know your story if you don't mind. If this is the result of a curse, it can be broken, and I want to help you find the way to do it. Good night, Draco Malfoy"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Hermione finally knows who is the hooded man, that the beast is real AND that said beast is Draco Malfoy, which is kind of impossible but true.
> 
> What are your theories on Draco's curse?
> 
> I can't wait to know your thoughts on this chapter!
> 
> Moma xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All characters and places from Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. Only those you don't recognise are mine.
> 
> Here's the next chapter, and it's only been a week since the last update! This one is a bit shorter than the last one, but I promise that the next chapter will be longer! I hope you enjoy the chapter (:
> 
> A/N: As always, just a quick reminder that English is not my mother tongue and this piece is unbeta'ed, so you might find spelling/grammar mistakes (please do tell me if you find any so I can correct them).

* * *

_CHAPTER FIVE_

* * *

Ten days had already passed since Hermione Granger declared that she would stay with him until she could find a way to break the curse. Draco was still trying to understand why.

He found it hard to believe that the young woman did not find his appearance hideous. That she really saw the man he once was, and not the beast he was now. How was that possible?

However, in his many long and lonesome years of life, he had learned that beggars can't be choosers. A gorgeous, smart, strong and spirited woman had decided that he was worth her while. Draco was neither foolish nor naive, he knew that the reason why Hermione Granger was still there was not him but the mystery she wanted to solve. But a man could only dream, couldn't he?

The problem was that Draco was certain that his mystery had no possible solution. Every passing day, the wall that protected his heart broke a little more because of Hermione. When the young woman finally gave up, she would leave - Draco knew she would, for she surely missed her life - and he would be left alone again, and this time, he had no doubt that his heart would be forever torn.

During those ten days, they had been in the library, reading every book he had on curses. He had never seen anyone get as excited as Hermione about a library. She spent hours in there, reading book after book in search of an answer. He sometimes joined her, but whenever he did they ended up talking about other things; Draco's fault, of course. He wanted to know everything about her and thus ended up distracting her.

Hermione's voice pulled him out of his mind, bringing him back to that same library.

"I've just realised that I never asked you how you ended up like this," she said, placing a bookmark on the page she was reading and closing the book, then pointing to his body with her hand. Draco had stopped wearing thick robes at her request. "How stupid of me!"

"You are many things, Miss Granger, but I can assure you that stupid is not one of them. You are, without a doubt, the most brilliant witch I have ever met," Draco said, causing a nervous chuckle from her. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything," she smiled. "But for the time being you could start by telling me how you turned..." she gestured with her hands, pointing at his body once more.

"To be honest, I don't remember much about that day," Draco began, pouring himself a glass of fire whisky. "The war was over, and the wizarding world had been celebrating for two weeks straight. I went home. I'd had too much to drink, and I collapsed on the sofa" he closed his eyes, remembering that night. Shaking his head, he walked over to the couch in front of her. "The memory is pretty foggy because of that; I know that I woke up shortly after, and some Death Eaters had come to seek revenge. I know they did this to me. I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, I looked like this."

"Don't you remember how they did it?"

Draco shook his head, looking straight ahead with a serious frown.

"I've tried to remember the details countless times, but I can't. It's as if the memory was blocked" he took a sip from his glass.

That wasn't entirely true; the first few years he had nightmares every single night. They were usually related to the horrors he had experienced in the war, but occasionally they were memories of the night he was cursed. The dreams were neither complete nor very clear, as he had been intoxicated at the time. It was true, though, that the memory was blocked –because he had done so to stop having nightmares. It was also true that he had done such a good job that now he was unable to unlock it.

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, and Draco had the feeling that she was beginning to plot some kind of plan.

"Have you tried to break the curse, Mr. Malfoy?"

"It's hard to break a curse not knowing how it was created," he smiled bitterly. "But yes, I have tried in the past. Tell me, Miss Granger... what do you know about my involvement in the war?"

"You are considered a war hero, Mr. Malfoy," she answered with a slight blush that surprised Draco. "In fact, I must confess that it makes me a little nervous to know that I'm talking to someone as important as you..."

"Nonsense. I was a chickenshit," replied Draco.

"Changing sides and revealing how to defeat Voldemort doesn't seem like an act of cowardice to me"

"Is that what the history books say these days?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I guess it's true that I switched sides and helped defeat the Dark Lord. But when it came down to it during the Great Battle, I was unable to do what I had to do"

"What happened?"

"My aunt was a little crazy. She was in love, no… she was obsessed with the Dark Lord, I would say" he said, recalling her aunt's deranged laughter with a shudder. "That day I had her right in front of me, killing innocent people... and I was incapable of stopping her. Because of me, many people who weren't supposed to die were killed that night"

"You can't blame yourself for that" Hermione looked into his eyes with such intensity that this time it was Draco who blushed. Could he even blush? Would she notice? "I don't think I'd be as brave as you, and I am Gryffindor. You turned your back on your family, on everyone you knew... because you knew what was right. Not being able to kill your aunt, however mad she was... doesn't make you a coward"

"I suppose you could be right, Miss Granger. But as you said, I turned my back on my family. To my own parents; however, they didn't turn their backs on me when this happened" he touched one of his horns "I know my mother loved me, but my father's motives were more selfish. If his only son was a beast, the Malfoy family would disappear. They wanted to break the curse so that I could marry and have children with the Malfoy name"

"What did they try to do to break the curse?"

"Do you know the children's story of Beauty and the Beast?" Hermione nodded "Well, it's not a story. The Malfoy family was originally from France, and therefore my family had contacts among the most important magical families there. It didn't take long to find out what really happened"

"And what happened?"

Draco smiled at the excitement in Hermione's eyes. Considering what she did for a living, it was not surprising that she was eager to know the real story.

"Same tale the story tells. A pureblood witch with a wounded pride after being rejected by a human prince cursed him. The real story was a little less dramatic, as at no point did the Beast come close to dying. All it took to break the curse was for them to fall in love. My parents, excited by that, thought that this would free me from my curse too, so for a while, they spent their time bringing girls to the manor. The girls would run away as soon as they saw me" he laughed bitterly "so my parents started to bring them here blinded. They spent some time here, keeping me company. Since I'm a charming lad, I obviously dazzled them," he said cheekily, causing Hermione to laugh and kick him gently in the leg, "and they begged me to reveal myself to them.

"They begged?" asked Hermione in an incredulous tone.

"Let me tell you one thing, Miss Granger; those women always ended up begging for more" his cheeky smile turned into a devilish smirk.

Hermione gasped and dropped the book she was holding to the floor, and Draco could feel her eyes on him as he took another swig of his fire whiskey.

"Do you mean...?" she shook her head "Do you mean you were having _sex_ with those girls?"

"Don't look so surprised. Those girls couldn't see what I looked like," he said, trying not to be affected by the disbelief in her voice. "I might look like a beast but I'm still a man with _human_ needs. I was young, and when they offered themselves, I was unable to deny myself."

"But obviously none of them fell in love with you, right?" she frowned. "Wow, that sounded awful. I mean that the curse wasn't broken and…"

"You can't seriously tell me you think this bloody curse can be broken with fucking love, Miss Granger" he scoffed, noting that he was beginning to lose control of his temper "This curse wasn't cast by a witch with wounded pride but by Death Eaters"

"Then did any of them fall in love with you?"

"Would that be so surprising?" replied Draco, somewhat hurt by Hermione's incredulous tone.

He knew it was impossible for anyone to fall in love with him looking like he did, but it still hurt to be reminded of it. Before the curse, Draco Malfoy had been a rather conceited man, probably because he had been lucky enough to be incredibly handsome and attractive. He had always drawn women's attention simply because of his looks... Well, that still happened. The only difference was that before they would throw themselves into his arms and now they would run in the opposite direction as soon as they saw him.

He'd lived with that beastly body for more than a century, and he had thought that he'd be ready for rejection. He had been wrong; knowing that Hermione found him as gruesome as all those girls hurt him. Why did she make him stop hiding behind his robes if she found him so disgusting?

"I didn't mean to say…"

"Don't bother" Draco interrupted her, drinking what was left in his glass and leaving it on the coffee table between them so hard that it almost broke. "Obviously it didn't happen. As soon as I revealed myself, they ran away and never came back. I ended up tired, and I asked my parents not to send anyone else."

Rather, there came a time when his heart and his pride could not endure such rejection. Rejection not only from the lovely girls but from his family. Once he refused to go along with his mother's plan, his father ceased all contact with him and tried to take the house-elves away. Luckily, Draco had already freed Dobby, so the elf he considered his friend chose to stay with him.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm a little tired," Draco said in a cold tone, getting up from his couch and walking away from Hermione.

Remembering all those years of rejection after rejection hadn't done him any good. Even less so when Hermione had been so surprised to think that someone would be capable of loving him. Of course she was surprised! She might have been kind to him, and she might really want to break the curse, but she would never have feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's love life is obviously a delicate subject, which I think makes sense. But do you think he might be overreacting?
> 
> I can't wait to know your thoughts on this chapter!
> 
> By the way, if you want to chat about this story, or anything really, you can find me on Tumblr/twitter under the same pen-name. I sometimes post stuff about the stories I write (aesthetics, fan casts...).
> 
> Moma xx


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